“Nature of your visit to station Oasis 6?” The excessively apathetic looking customs official barely made eye contact to Driftwave from behind the glass of her booth, just as she did for the last dozen or so people she had sent into the upper levels of the station, the legitimate levels.
“I’m here to pick up some power converters.” The official stopped her typing, slowly pulling her hands back from the keyboard as her large black eyelashes exaggerated the path of her eyes, rising from the display to look over the man in front of her.
“Name?” Her voice was softer than before
“Does it matter?” Was much more rude then Driftwave had intended, despite being told many times that a friendly demeanor was a key element in running the cons he did, like getting free hotel rooms, he had never quite mastered it.
“Ok then Mister John Smith.” The official typed in into the display, saying that the person before her had not entered the station and had in fact stayed in the space dock until his lay-over ended a few minutes later and he boarded a ship away from the Oasis space station. She then smiled and pushed a button underneath her console. “Welcome to the Toshi station.” She smiled politely and spoke quietly, then attempted to return to her apathetic stance as the next person approached her window.
Driftwave followed the painted line on the ground that lead around the customs section to the entrances into the station. At the end of the line were 4 doorways with lit scanning devices in their archways, meant to check that weapons and contraband did not enter the station. Driftwave thought to himself how much cleaner it would be up there as he tried to see the top of the large escalating staircase beyond the scanners. Then he turned his head left, the flickering lights around a service elevator causing an annoying buzzing. Drift checked that his bag was secure as he walked toward.
The door opened manually by sliding the metal cage door up, the flickering lights stopping once he closed the door again. The right side of the large elevator had a dozen or so buttons on it, all polished stainless steel, save one near the button, rusted and covered in grease. It lit perfectly when drift pressed it with the sleeve of his jacket. He had stolen a change of clothes from some teenager on the ship, figuring a change of style from his typical plain look might make him feel more hidden. He had no idea what the vaguely graphitic looking symbol printed on the jacket represented, but he assumed it was some sort of band. The elevator sped downward for about a minute, then began slowing as it entered the lowest storage bay, a room roughly the size of a coliseum, shops set up all around, Driftwave saw how the shops and shacks formed makeshift streets in their little negative space, some towering over others, welded together smaller units forming tall buildings, still not reaching anywhere near the top of the expansive space.
Driftwave zipped the jacket up the last few inches, covered his head with the hood, and stepped off the elevator. He started moving forward, looking for shops selling the kind of tech he needed, he was used to working with the best, but he might have to settle. He wasn’t all that good with haggling or people in general, but the more he hacked the more he risked getting caught, he would need to change how he did everything, the programs he used, the hardware, much of both custom made himself. The streets where crowded like a megacity, he kept checking the ties on his bag every time someone bumped into him, which was often. Drift found a booth that was pawning display systems, the most easily replaceable part of his rig, he traded it for as much as he could get, which as far as he could tell was enough for some food and a couple nights stay. So by then, he needed a better plan.
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